


Orbital Harmonics

by thisnewjoe



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Coffee Shops, M/M, Mass Effect 2, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23246941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisnewjoe/pseuds/thisnewjoe
Summary: Prompt:Shepard and Ryder encounter each other on the Citadel and have an adventure with a happy ending.
Relationships: Male Ryder | Scott/Male Shepard
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Spectre Requisitions 2020





	1. Balconies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Estelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estelle/gifts).



Cafe Cave-9, Citadel, Serpent Nebula, 2185.

### Ryder

Scott Ryder has been in the cafe for a while before recognizing Commander John Shepard in the small balcony booth opposite him in the cafe. A substantial portion of the Presidium Ring Parkway was visible in both directions from that seat, and it was somehow quieter there even though it was more open than other seats in the cafe. Sara and he had discovered the unique and beautiful view during one of their previous adventures here.

When his sister makes to leave, Ryder tells her he is going to stay for a bit longer, maybe talk to Commander Shepard. She shrugs and wanders back to their home. Either Commander Shepard's name doesn't click, or she just doesn't care like Ryder does. This person became the First Human SPECTRE. That's an incredible achievement, and he's the only human SPECTRE. Ryder hopes he has time to refresh himself on recent news about the Commander before the man leaves.

Shepard has just ordered another drink, and is barely sipping at it. There's no sign of food, and he doesn't look to be in a hurry to meet anyone or rush out of here. Shepard may want quiet and solitude, and Ryder hopes he won't mind a quick, respectful introduction before heading back home.

Several minutes later closes the last news article about the Commander's recent work around the Terminus Systems and checks his own outfit. This was a heavy workout day, and he is wearing gym gear. It's clean, but it's not great for introductions. Even so, today is his day to seize, and he's going for it.

There is a significant contrast between his gym clothes and Shepard's dark jeans and dark shirt. There's a leather jacket folded kindly on the chair next to Shepard. The man's bare forearms lay on the table, resting in the pool of light cast by the single lamp over the table. Ryder notices that Shepard has unusually handsome features, and this lighting is really boosting the effect. The Commander looks calm, collected, and low-key. Ryder half-notes that he wants to be the kind of handsome Shepard is when Ryder gets to be ten years older.

Shepard lifts his drink and takes as sip, and when he sets the glass down, Ryder steps into the pool of light spilling off the table and Commander Shepard turns to him.

### Shepard

The smile puts him at ease, somehow. Shepard hadn't realized he's been a little tense. The man is kind of familiar to him, though he knows he's never met him.

"Hello, Commander Shepard." The voice is unfamiliar, but it's quiet, as if to avoid disturbing him.

"Do I know you?" He asks in an even tone. A grin grew on the younger man's playful, open face. When Shepard thinks of the best human qualities, he thinks of people like this man, who are confident, energetic, and courageous. He is certain he does not know this man.

"I doubt it, sir, but if you let me buy you a drink then I can answer any questions you have."

Shepard silently hands it to the guy: That is a slick introduction and it was delivered perfectly. Zero smarm, no weirdness, all confidence and clear action. So he laughs because, well, how could he not?

As he does, he jostles the glass so that drops splash out on his finger. He and his guest both look, both notice the way they sparkle in the little spotlight. Shepard will never quite understand what causes him to be brazen right now, but before he consciously realizes what he's done, he's licking the drops off his fingers while watching his guest, and then motions for his guest to sit across from him.

"I think I'll accept your offer for a drink, so long as you finish introducing yourself." 

This man is about ten years younger than Shepard, probably somewhere in his early 20s. He's got youthful charm, but it's honed by experience. This man has gone through training, probably had some real rough experiences, and he's come out it pretty good so far.

He notices the other man looking at him with a little more scrutiny than is typical. It's curious, not assessing. He looks at the man's shoulders, glances at the way his hands interlace when he sets them on the table in front of him. He grins at his guest's shambling stubble. It's never going to be a full beard, but he's got a scruffy look going that is working in his favor.

"I'm Scott Ryder." He says, holding his hand out for a shake. "Since it will be awkward if I keep calling you Sir all night, is it okay if I call you Commander? Or just Shepard?" Shepard takes his hand and gives him a solid shake while nodding. Ryder takes this to mean, "You can call me Shepard."

Then Shepard remembers that words are the galactic standard form of communication and switches from grunting to full-fledged grammar structures. 

"Mister Ryder, I want you to know that I have never heard an introduction delivered so smoothly in my entire life."

"Damn right. I was practicing all morning."

"Oh? Were you?" Shepard reads the surprise in Ryder's voice plainly. This man is surprised at himself, and has the good grace to roll with it. "I admire confidence and trust, Ryder."

"Yes, well... Thank you. I have to admit that I don't really have any pickup lines. Frankly, I have no idea where that came from, but I'm taking full responsibility for its success." Shepard mutters something about the words of a politician and Ryder chuckles. "I'm here to say hello and suddenly you're inviting me to sit. I'm flattered, Shepard."

Shepard waves the server over and they refresh their beverages. They share where they were born and do a quick gloss-over of where they came from. They keep finding moments of laughing together, even when they don't mean to. Shepard is finding that his time with Ryder is pretty great. 

"I'm enjoying our conversation, but I've got a matter of curiosity you can help me resolve, Ryder. You don't seem like you really want anything from me, and just about everyone does. What had you come talk to me today?"

"I noticed you as we were leaving. Though I've heard your name and read some news, I don't know much about you. When I put myself out to shake hands with the human SPECTRE, it was really just to say hello."

"And you're not here for a news story, or an article, or to try to bribe me or something?"

"No, I swear, I'm just me."

"That may be true, but I have the feeling you're not saying something you want to say. Why not just say it?"

"Uhh, well, my work is going to take me out of contact for a long time. I'm treating these last weeks here as a chance to do those things I otherwise might put off until later."

"There are a lot of ways to take that description, Ryder. I thought you said you came upon me by chance." Shepard hopes this is miscommunication and not some kind of deception. He just wants an afternoon to himself, and he's not even sure why he offered the man a seat at his table.

"Huh?" Shepard watches as Ryder runs through what he said, and smiles when he sees Ryder caught the reference. The blunt double-entendres were not intended, which confirms for Shepard that Ryder just is a little messy, a little weird, but in good ways. "Oh, crap. I meant like going places, seeing things, talking with people I might normally just not talk to. When we go, we won't be coming back to the Citadel, so I'm trying to take it all in, to not miss any chance to do something I'd otherwise regret later." His cheeks were burning. "When you offered me time to sit with you, I couldn't help but feel like I'd won a prize."

"I appreciate your being direct. And it's true: I am enjoying our conversation." Shepard looks off into the distance for a thoughtful breath, then focuses on Ryder, leaning in a little to say, "I'd like to know what your intentions are now that you're at my table." He was inviting Ryder to speak his mind. He didn't know what, if anything at all, he wanted from Ryder. Maybe it was just the novelty of someone being calm in his presence that matters.

"I did a cramming session on news about you for several minutes before walking over here. I didn't want to be underprepared."

"You crammed for a handshake?"

"Uhh— Yes, I definitely did do that. Can we not mention this again?" Ryder cringed comically. It was genuinely a little embarrassing, but he already saw the humor in the whole thing and knew he'd be telling the story to his sister later, anyhow.

"Did you think there would be a bar exam or a test?"

"Shepard, you're you. Do you have any idea what it's like to be around you? I mean, I am clear that too many people still don't get what you're trying to do around here. They don't realize that you're using Cerberus, not the other way around no matter how hard the company tries to spin it. You haven't 'converted' or 'turned traitor' or whatever else anyone wants to slap you with." He looks at Shepard's hands. The one that first caught his eye when he got to the table stole his attention for a second moment. "One look at you up close changed everything. I think that on some level I just knew that a handshake wasn't going to work. I wanted to get a chance to meet the man behind the job titles."

"And you stayed."

"Where would I go instead of being here?" Shepard shrugs and Ryder shrugs in agreement. "I'd like to ask you a question, if I may. You don't have to answer." Shepard shrugged again, and let a smile slip. Ryder nodded and ask, "What were you thinking about before I got here?"

"Ahh." Shepard is not prepared for that question. He can't say too much, doesn't even want to say that much, but he wants to share something. He'd like to see how Ryder responds.

"I came here because this is one of those places where I come to get out of my head. I never bring anyone here, I never talk to anyone about it." He nods subtly to the room, indicating the various pairs and more of occupants at tables and booths all over. "You can come here and be left alone. Everyone who comes here is off-duty, from the C-SEC officers to the Captains and the Commanders, like me." 

Shepard struggles for a few moments and appreciates that Ryder isn't trying to rush him. "It's like: Here I am, out here," he holds his hands at chest level, keeping the wrists loose, "zombie Shepard. This feels mostly like the original me, but almost all of what I am is version 2.0. Some of it improved, some of it pretty much exactly as it was." He didn't realize that he felt that way, but what's true is true, so he moves on. "I command a powerful stealth starship crewed by brilliant beings. We do amazing things in the face of tremendous odds, and I won their loyalty through a lot of hard work." He holds his hands up in a sort "stop" motion. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't have it any other way. That part of things is totally worth it." He ignores Ryder's eyes following his hand as he drags his fingers down his face in frustration. "The galaxy is tearing itself apart and I'm trying to pull it together while fighting the Collectors and trying to block the Reapers, and I'm not sure I'm going to win this one." Oops.

This time when the truth bell rings, it is loud and deep. Ryder's face shows no worry or concern. SPECTRE John Shepard had just confessed his expectation of failure aloud, in public, to someone he just met, and on whom Shepard has done zero background checking. There was no mistaking the confession.

Ryder shakes his head. It's not at Shepard's admission, but at the Commander's worry. Ryder reassures Shepard with a look and a nod that he is still listening, and wants Shepard to understand that Ryder isn't here to judge him.

And just like that, Shepard's concerns lose most of their power.

"Cerberus is a tremendous threat to galactic stability, and I will take care of them after I use their resources and commitment to take action that I seriously hope will save lives." That's as true as the last confession. Shepard is appreciating the chance to voice this with someone in this way. "I use them. Hell, I was using them when I died two years ago, and I didn't even know it. For me, it's only been a few weeks since I lost someone I loved by dying. It's been two years for them, and they're out there, thinking I'm dead, and I can't even figure out how to tell them what's going on."

Ryder is rubbing the fingers of one hand subconsciously over the back of his other hand. Shepard's eyes follow the gentle movement and Shepard lets himself by transfixed.

"Everything is just a little off. I'm not in sync with everything. When I go somewhere familiar," he sends a glance across the cafe, "it's just not quite as it should be. I'm... I'm pissed-off, actually. If I were on Earth I'd head to the nearest wilderness and lose myself there for a while. I'm tired of the pain in the ass that comes with getting shot by the people I'm trying to save."

Shepard has started to notice that Ryder has a few different ways he looks at a person. Maybe this is just because he's Shepard, but he doesn't quite think that. Ryder is looking at Shepard like he's processing tons of information and preparing a final analysis. Ryder leans forward on the table, flicks a hand out to barely swipe at the back of Shepard's hand, and he says, "You're wrong, Shepard."

"You think I'm wrong? About that?"

"I think you're wrong. It's a thing that happens to most people, and if I'm being a sarcastic asshole poking fun with a friend, I might suggest that this is your first time with the experience." He arches an eyebrow imperiously. 

"No man is capable of willing himself through the kinds of things you're doing. You may think you're powered by anger," Shepard stifles his gut reaction as soon as he realizes Ryder called it exactly as it is. "But you're actually stuck caring. You are a man with a big, deep care for people despite the things you've gone through in your life. You taught yourself to hold yourself to a higher standard no matter what. You're stubborn about that because it does make a difference." He raises both hands to indicate all of Shepard's Commanderness, "You are Marine N7 SPECTRE Commander John Shepard whatever-whatever," which gets a smile out of Shepard," up-and-coming Savior of the entire Galaxy, blah blah blah, and you absolutely know you cannot afford to be wrong." He shrugs his shoulders. "Sometimes, for you, in particular, it feels like a part of you is killed-off when something goes sideways."

Shepard spends a lot of his waking hours not actually talking. There's not much point when cleaning or upgrading his gear. There's nothing at all to say to politicians and evil corporate overlords who couldn't figure out how to listen even if they could never speak again. There's very little to say when he's alone in his cabin, or listening to the crew reports and communiques from the Citadel and the Alliance. He ignores half of what Cerberus sends his way, and lets EDI bring it up if it seems important. Most of the time, Shepard's silence is self-imposed.

Ryder has broken him. Shepard has the idea that if the universe twisted around him for a half-second, then settled itself at a whole new angle, it would explain why Shepard's feeling like he's standing in a sideways reality, right now.

'You know, Shepard," Ryder began after a full minute's silence. "I was born on the Citadel. When the time came, I needed out of the kind of perfect dream the Citadel promises. I was an Alliance soldier for 5 years, assigned most of that time to the Arcturus Relay."

"That's very hotly contested space. Did you choose that assignment?" Shepard said. His voice was his own again. 

"No. But I also want to say that while I haven't seen what you've seen, I've had my own piece of rough parts of the galaxy. I get how it can be when it's just too much. Sometimes you have to talk to someone. If not a friend, then a doctor. If no doctor, then sometimes a stranger might do."

"We've gone kind of deep here. You said you came here to clear your head, and I think maybe you've done some of that." Shepard nods at what he says. "You also come here to be alone, but to have people around in a way that doesn't feel like isolation." A second nod. "Then does our conversation today run against that? Do you think you might not feel comfortable coming back here in the future?"

He didn't know. Would he want to come back here, where he'd shared more significant truths with Ryder than he had with anyone else? His world has been rocked twice tonight. It's relieving, but disturbing. He might end up associating this cafe with that kind of shock and not want to come back.

"I haven't decided, yet." 


	2. Pathways

Wilderness path, Presidium Parkway.

### Ryder

Shepard had invited Ryder to go for a walk and was greeted with an eager affirmative. Shepard's shared Ryder's habit of sometimes switching environments to alter thought patterns and swap one kind of headspace for another. While some of the parkway paths are familiar to Ryder, Shepard knows this path and seems happy to act as Ryder's personal Avina.

"Hey, I saw the logo on your shirt and I don't recognize it. Ryder, would you mind telling me about the project you're working on?" 

"There are a lot of reasons I can't go into any details about it and none of those reasons have to do with you. Pretty soon I won't even be able to talk with anyone outside the project, as part of the security plan. We're in the final stages of an adventure that promises a whole new life adventure for the space-faring species of the Milky Way. That's about all I can say."

"Oh? Alright. I suppose I could use my SPECTRE powers to look it up."

"You might be able to, and probably without too much effort." He thought about sharing another fact with Shepard. "My dad is Alec Ryder, and my sister, mother, and I are working with him."

"Ah! Alec Ryder. That's a name I recognize. I'm sorry I didn't put those facts together, Ryder. I might have given you a warmer welcome had I remembered your dad's project. We've actually talked about it some, in very broad terms, and agreed that it might be risky for me, going into enemy territory, to learn too much about it. "

"I hope there is never a chance to test your resilience in that way."

"It's just how it goes," Shepard said, echoing a familiar Alliance grunt refrain. "I was a soldier, and I rely on that training to keep me on-task." He stops for a moment and regards Ryder. "If you wouldn't mind, I think I'd like to avoid talking about our missions, for now. Maybe there's no reason to be concerned, but I'm not ready to risk it right now."

"Sounds fine to me." The continued strolling slowly along the path. Neither had appointments that evening and nobody expected them home at a certain time, so they agreed to just keep walking for a while. Ryder likes the way he and Shepard are getting to know each other. They seem mutually interested, but that doesn't mean anything's necessarily going to work out.

They come to the place where Shepard taps Ryder's bicep to catch his attention and turn left, into a less kempt smaller path than the one they are on now. 

Ryder follows Shepard into the more densely packed foliage, relishing the relative privacy of the smaller path here, and the chance to walk a bit closer to Shepard. He remembers something he read in one of Shepard's biographies.

"My dad was an N7, actually. You went through that program, right?"

"Yes, I was a Marine and got into the N7 program. I liked it a lot, actually. What's your dad say about the program?"

Ryder considers this for a moment. His dad uses what he got from the program, which includes connections, combat tactics, and logistical management. He's using all that muscle to pull resources toward the Andromeda Initiative. His dad never quite spoke fondly of the N7 program. Maybe it was the Alliance, overall. He reminds himself to look for that when he is around dad next.

To Shepard, he says, "I'd say that he recognizes and applies the lessons of the experience, but I don't think he actually liked it. It was a stepping-stone for him, and now he's on this project, which is happening in huge part because of his specific talents and connections. 

The training Ryder was in earlier today was derived by Alec Ryder for training both Ryder siblings in useful combat tactics. As far as he can tell, it's a pretty rigorous reproduction of the genuine thing. He seems to think we're going to need it, though we have no specific signs about that so far."

"He may be right. A galaxy is a big place and there may be dangers there that we haven't even heard of yet." Shepard laughed. "What was the name of that ridiculous drink you ordered earlier?"

"The Voluptuous Vorcha."

Shepard launches into a retelling of the moment he saw the spectacular masterpiece cocktail for the first time.

The first part was the wordless "what the fuck?" look on his face, shouted in the utterly confused way he held his body. Then Shepard replayed much of the monologue he first made when looking at the thing.

"Okay, so the rainbow colors are nice, but these milky white strands look like someone did nasty things in the mix. How come that wasn't already too much?" he asked Ryder rhetorically. "What's with the bacon, olives, and onions on that stick there, and why is there a mini burger on this stick with a whole cupcake speared on top of it? There's — gummy worms? Really? That top glass is just.... why is there a top glass?" Shepard had looked at the server. "Did you injure yourself carrying this monster over here? This thing is terrifying. I shouldn't feel this kind of discomfort from a mixed drink."

Ryder had applauded his theatrics, and the server laughed, genuinely amused before going back to her other duties. When Ryder started dismantling the drink, he replied, simply, "Don't go yucking my yum, Shepard. Everything that you see is delicious." He pulled a spear holding several miniature foods out of the beverage bouquet and held them out for Shepard. "Eat." And Shepard did, and was suitably impressed.

In the present, he dodges a low-hanging branch and listens as Shepard speaks again.

"Do you think you'll get much time to go here before you head out? You seemed to love my drink, but limited yourself to a sip when I offered you more. Why was that?"

"At Arcturus, we noticed a trend in favor of survival for people who had something specific to look forward to after a mission." Ryder picked a leaf from the ground. The keepers hadn't gotten to it yet, and he wanted to feel the texture of an actual dried leaf with his own two hands. "We had learned that anyone who had some important-to-them thing to get back to after a mission tended to have lower mortality rates and recovered faster from generally less-serious injuries."

Shepard nods, internally relating that description to his own observations and experiences. He nods again when he agrees he's anecdotally seen a similar pattern.

"It's not depression, it's just... Motivation, I think. Maybe hope? I'm not great with the formalities of psychology, so please forgive me for being incomplete, but we always figured it was something to do with just giving yourself no reason not to fight."

"There are plenty of whiskies all over the galaxy, though, isn't there? What makes this one worthy of being your treasure?"

"It's not the whiskey, it's a reminder of how it was when I got to share a drink with you. I've only known you for a few hours now and I'm feeling like you're really important to me, Shepard."

### Shepard

"Got it," Shepard said. Tenatively, he offered, "Would you mind if we switched to first names? Everyone calls me Shepard, and I think I'd like to be John with you." Some part of Shepard's psyche whispered that all he really wanted to do was hear Ryder say his first name again.

"I'd like that. Thank you, John." 

His name is a delicious thing in Ryder's mouth. 

The small circular area is framed by a low circular wall with a cutout for entering the space, and a bench curving around the inside of the wall. Shepard sees Ryder looking around, assessing how far they are from being casually observed. Shepard seats himself and waits for Ryder to sit. In turn, Ryder sits close enough to him that they brush shoulders every time they inhale.

"So long as we're in here, we are invisible to casual observation."

Ryder lets his leg bump Shepard's a few times, then he looks at the tops of the trees. 

"You know, this could have just been just a handshake and a goodbye, but we've turned it into something else, haven't we?" Shepard grunts in assent. Verbal mode is taking a break, he supposes. Ryder leans slightly into Shepard and maintains his eyes on the treetops. "I appreciate you sharing your time with me."

Shepard rocks back toward Ryder gently, then looks at the treetops with the other man. For a few minutes, they just inhale, hold, and exhale together in matching silent rhythm.

"How did you find this place?" Ryder asks in a slightly mangled voice. His throat had gone dry, and he couldn't help but shake his head at the comical voice he spoke with.

"I found that cafe the usual way: look in the apps, see what people say, mark some as possibilities, then choose a possibility and go. Then one time or other I wandered around the parkway and noticed the path to this place." Shepard gives Ryder a sly grin. "I'll have you know: I didn't even need SPECTRE access for this mission."

"Have you ever brought anyone here before? Friend, date, crewmate? Whoever."

"This is literally the only time I've taken anyone on a walk through any of these parks, and it seems kind of inevitable now that of course, it was you I'd meet and be taken to this secluded spot in this out-of-the-way park. I usually don't even think about going to the park even when things aren't going haywire." Ryder nodded. Shepard didn't want to trade on his fame and looks for dates.

"I grew up on the Citadel, but I don't think I've really taken an appreciative look at it in a long while. I've never even been to this park and it's exactly the kind of place I would have wanted to discover." He glances around, looking intently at several alien plants as if committing them to memory. "Things feel different now." 

Ryder's taps his wrist. "I feel like, we're both kind of on the same mission in life, though our journeys are different. A lot different."

"What is the mission?" Shepard asked quietly, speaking close to Ryder's ear.

"John, I think you and I are trying to give people reasons to take action to make a better future. All people, everywhere." Ryder waves his arm to gesture at the whole Citadel.

"I suppose that is true. It's a better reason than just 'Beat the Reapers..'" He leans back and lets a little more of his arm and leg come in contact with Scott's. "I like how you see things, Scott. Not many people take the time to notice what you notice, and you are doing a good job making people feel appreciated."

"You're a good man, John. Doesn't matter what people think they do or don't know about who you are and what you're up to. What you're doing is making a difference and you're doing it for all the right reasons."

"Damn right."

Shepard's moment of jostling has Ryder opening his eyes to observe him.

"Got a call to make?" Ryder asks Shepard when he sees the omnitool glow.

"No. Setting myself as Do Not Disturb." He nudges Ryder's knee again, gently. "I am declaring that I don't want to be interrupted until mid-morning tomorrow when, unless I am back at my ship, some heavily armed people will come beating on the hotel door and might threaten to aerate whoever else happened to be with me. As that person is you and because I like you, I would like to make sure we're out of the room before that happens."

"That sounds like an invite to overnight with you. I accept." Shepard rolls with that one. Ryder is correct because he had actually said he assumed Ryder was staying to the morning. It wasn't specifically Ryder's name that he had said, but they both know he's exactly who Shepard meant.

"John?" Ryder nudges back at John, a little more forcefully than is pleasurable. "Wait. How come it feels like your whole arm is made from metal? I thought you said the bones were yours." Ryder nudged back at Shepard, politely and pleasantly, this time.

"Most of the bones are my own, though they did graft a lot of plates on, implants for physical power and biotics, and stuff like that. I didn't think to mention it before we sat together. Most of my skeleton is covered in plates, I think. My head sure is." He thunks his skull and makes a knocking noise with his mouth. 

Ryder just raises an eyebrow and gives him a, "Huh. Well, it's interesting." 

He pokes his fingers at Shepard's bicep. "How much do you weigh?"

"Uh, most materials are ultralight, so the total work adds maybe 15-20 kilos over my natural body weight. Puts me at around 102 Kilos. So I guess my biological self is something like 85 kilos or so. My strength is in lean muscles. It's easy for people to underestimate me."

Now Shepard bonks Ryder's knee with his fingertips. "How come you keep taking those deep breaths?" He knows what meditation and relaxation are, but he isn't familiar with Ryder's particular practice.

"Right, sorry, this is all me. I suppose it's like meditation. I have this thing where being comfortable with someone just kind of leads to me not worrying about much of anything. If the mood strikes me to deep breathe a bit, or zone out, or do whatever, I just go for it. This helps unwind my head even after the roughest training days. For right now, though, this is because I want to remember the feel and sense of every place I get to spend time next to you."

"That sounds like a good plan."

"I like the plants here. And the different ways that things smell in this area. The air feels fresher somehow than the stuff I know is plenty well purified that's in the ventilation systems." He closes his eyes and lays his head against Shepard's shoulder. "I also get to feel your warmth, the rhythm of your breath. I just like being here, with you, at this exact moment. I'd like to soak it up for a little bit before wherever we go next."

Shepard sets his forearm diagonal over his leg so his hand faces upward and open. It's an invitation.

In only a second, Ryder slides his fingers between Shepard's own. Ryder gives him a long, gentle, satisfying squeeze, Shepard can't help but squeeze back a couple of times, keeping in mind the large imbalance of physical power between their potential grip strength. He hasn't held hands casually with anyone since before the Lazarus Project, and handshakes don't account for feelings like these. He resolves that he'll commit the experience to memory, so as he tilts his head and rubs his stubbled cheek over the top of Ryder's head where it rests on his shoulder. 

"That sounds like a good plan, Scott."


	3. Stairways

Level 2 Mezzanine, Silversun Strip block.

### Shepard

Ryder follows him out of the skycar and toward the bright lights of a row of restaurants around the corner from the Silversun Strip. On their way over, Ryder tells of being in this area years ago, counting that he hadn't been back for a decade or so. Shepard's small, moderately-priced hotel room is in the lower level a Tiberius tower, near Silversun. Anderson has an apartment around somewhere, but they'd rarely been at the Citadel at the same time and the same schedule to work out a visit, so he wasn't even sure where it was.

Shepard had approached some food vendors looking for inspiration for dinner when Ryder called for his attention.

"Do we think we'll need dessert?" Ryder pointed to the display of a dish that looked Asari in origin. It wasn't familiar to Shepard.

"I've never had this. Might as well try it. Have you?"

"I think I've had something like it, but probably not this, exactly." They both fumbled over trying to pronounce it in the Asari way, and gave it up with a laugh at their own linguistic ineptitude.

"The Asari make things so complicated, sometimes. No food should have that many syllables in its name. Let's just call it 'dessert' and be done with it."

"As you wish, John."

No. There is no reason Ryder would know of Shepard's deep secret adoration for a romantic adventure comedy that's so very old. For a poor kid like Shepard, learning he could watch movies for free from the library, and with the gentle prodding of a friendly librarian, Shepard had discovered the joy that was Andre the Giant, and the rest of the cast. He hasn't had time to sit and watch the movie for the last several years, but he always keeps a copy closeby. It's the one treasure from his shitty childhood that meant something to him, so he keeps the movie with him at all times. Even most of his own body isn't original parts, so the comfort of the memory of the movie helps him feel anchored to his happiest times in childhood.

Of course, when Shepard happens a block farther along upon a vendor serving what looked like warmed peanut-looking snacks, he pointed at them and beams at Ryder with a conspiratorial expression, "Anybody want a peanut?"

Ryder, being a good sport, tried to play along, but he didn't know the source material and he missed the significance that Shepard had for the phrase..

"Sorry, Scott. It's just— I'll just send you something later that will make it all clear. It's an old romantic adventure movie with heapings of comedy cheese. I think you'll like it."

"I have a hard time finding reasons to say no to you, John." 

Shepard has a few scenes featuring the inspirational Ryder and an age requirement for viewing, then files them away for reviewing later when a dickstraction is less likely to mess things up.

"Then give up trying."

### Ryder

They enter Shepard's room, organize the dishes they'd ordered into a mini buffet, and sit for the devouring. They are at a tidy table sitting too close for comfort, but at a great closeness for amusing elbow jousts as they pretend to try not to knock each other's food off their utensils.

The view of the world from their seats showed the long dimension of this Citadel arm. Behind the urban structures and the superstructures of the Citadel itself was a starfield rolling. The backdrop slipped across the spaces between all the lights and shapes and frames of the supertowers. It was attractive, in its own way. Ryder doesn't regret that the Citadel was his birthplace, nor that he had spent most of his life with the Citadel as his home. 

Scott looks at Shepard as a visitor to the Citadel, and to himself as a citizen of it. Everything about them is adjacent. Nothing overlaps. Similar live mission, but exactly the opposite roles. Even their clothing is Shepard in a pleasantly formal/casual black opposite Ryder in his white athletic gear. It is kind of romantic and unlikely, and his heart raced when he stopped to think about how well everything is going with Shepard. He specifically did not let himself think about the end of things.

Now he recalls the feeling of going through Mass Relays, and the experience of walking through the gardens on the Presidium. It could be a long time before they have established colonies mature enough to develop cultured gardens like these. The first generations are more likely to be coaxing Milky Way food seeds and starters in soils completely different from Earth's rich soils.

The long moments in quiet with Shepard in that hideaway off the Wilderness path were unique in many ways. Ryder soaked up everything he could before they left. and he's trying to grab snippets here and there to keep for later. He wants to be able to recreate this day in the future. He has decided that love in any galaxy was worth pursuing now, even if it's for too brief a time.

"John." He says it like a statement, not a question. "John," he says again, trying a different costume on the name from the first draft. It was doing wonders for Shepard's libido, but Ryder still hadn't caught-on to that consciously yet. 

"It's still a little crazy to me that I get to call you John. It's another wonderful surprise from you. I hope that I'm returning the favor in some way."

He plays at slurping a noodle with extra dramatic noises, and nearly chokes when he starts laughing at Shepard's reaction. Libido temporarily replaced with bemusement at Ryder antics.

"You are the entertaining kind of weird, Scott. A spectacle, and I feel lucky to get a front-seat view of that uniqueness."

Ryder has a mere moment to form a reply when Shepard swings his arm over them and sets it against Ryder's back along the wall. He faces Ryder directly.

"Scott?" 

Ryder blinks back at him. 

"Would it be alright if I kissed you now?"

Ryder consents enthusiastically.


	4. Docking Bays

D24, Priority Reserved Moorings, Citadel Docks. Mid-morning, after.

### Shepard

He'd been holding Ryder since they'd finally fallen asleep late into the night. Whenever Ryder moves in his sleep, Shepard followed the action. They have a slow and comfortable dance going. They fit together perfectly in every way they've tried, so far. But it's nearing the end of their visit.

Eventually, some couple of hours ago, Ryder had turned toward him and Shepard pulled him close. Now, as they approach the "I'm going to get yelled at by everyone on my ship if I don't check-in" time of morning, Shepard reluctantly rubs his hand gently up and down Ryder's back. The good-morning he uttered is almost subvocal, but Ryder understands and issues his own grunt a disapproval at the state of mid-consciousness.

"I don't wanna, John." He tucks his hands around Shepard's back and pulls him closer, so all of them that faces the other is touching.

"Well, I'm sorry, but my crew will break down the door if I don't get back to them pretty soon." He sets his lips to Ryder's forehead in a long, casual kiss. He rubs against his nose and then nudges him into a deep and satisfying kiss. They knew the feel of each other now. There is richness by morning where there had been nerves and novelty several hours before.

Ryder slid his fingertips down Shepard's abdomen, along his waist, and pet Shepard there. 

"If we want to do that," Shepard advised, "you're going to have to work a little harder and faster. I'm not kidding about the time crunch, though I hate that I can't delay this more."

"You're a SPECTRE. You override everything."

"And yet: No. Come on, get up. I hate it, too."

Ryder mock-bites Shepard's nose. "No! You don't hate it. These people are amazing. You love being with them. Just because you gotta take a break and pick up some dude in a cafe now and then doesn't mean you love them less."

"What are you even talking about, Scott. Shut up." He laughed and tried snuggling a little closer to Ryder.

"As you wish, Commander."

"Hey! That's not right. You can't go wasting perfectly good lines like that without watching and honoring the source material. You'll ruin it for yourself, and you'll wear out a perfectly fantastic phrase."

"I think I get the idea even though I haven't seen the scene yet. I wanted to test it out. But I can stop, if you prefer."

"Nah, it's like... He worships her whole being. You'll appreciate it when you see it."

"I can see how that would be appealing," Ryder says while rubbing against Shepard's legs and very effectively stimulating blood flow.

Shepard kisses Ryder again, then leaves a trail down his neck and across his shoulder. Just when he's about to move his head back to start another trail, Ryder puts his hand behind Shepard's head and provides just enough resistance to let Shepard know where to stop. It was by Ryder's lips. All the other man had to do was lean a centimeter closer and this would be a kiss.

"John, I'm kinda fond of you." Ryder set his lips against Shepard's neck and mouthed at him for a few moments, and moved his hands around Shepard's back.

"I wouldn't bring anyone into my home, nor into my bed — however temporary —" Shepard whispered softly near his ear, "if I didn't know that we had something good going on. "

"Yeah, my friends give some advice about relationships that I've tried to take to heart. They say that relationships are just exchanges of making and responding to offers from each other. Relationships are built from the little trusts that we earn when we ask for the simple things, and which form the foundation for larger moments of trust. Health, happiness, family. Whatever. From the moment I walked up to you I had the sense that you were already practicing that, even if it weren't conscious, and it gave me the first real, clear moment of trust in you."

Shepard pulled Ryder close, holding them together as they explored each other again. "I probably would describe it differently than you have, but yeah, I get what you mean."

They start warming each other up when Shepard takes a moment to distract Ryder with an intimate kiss and smile, and then to say, "For what it's worth, Scott, I know that I love you."

### Ryder

They squeeze-in a full round with each other before checking out of the hotel room. They are heading to the dock because Shepard needs to get aboard the Normandy to keep on the flight control slot they'd scheduled. Ryder just needs to get back to his family and check-in. Nobody has tried to contact him overnight, so he figures that Sara told their parents something that discouraged them from seeking him out. That was no problem for him.

Since he'd last seen his sister, he's learned first that Shepard was a strong and passionate man who tempered his emotions with some healthy critical thinking. Shepard likes his noodles spicy and his vegetables stir-fried. He has the most catlike snore Ryder has ever heard of, making purring sounds on each in and out breath. Shepard's sleeping lungs let the breath go in a slow and gravelly drone, the frequency of a cat's purring. The sensation tickled every part of him pressed against Shepard's gently vibrating form. 

Thoughts of Shepard felt like home to Ryder. The man's encompassing strength and willingness to explore comfort. Ryder's familiar old bed is going to feel a little odd for a while without Shepard there. Maybe Orinia was right. She'd shared one of her Turian philosophies about how people might sometimes find themselves resonating with another person, and discovering together that they made music that was more than either of them could be on their own.

The walk through the sentry stations was quiet. They could have held hands, but they both enjoyed the casual bumping sensation. They bumped hands and elbows, and by the time they'd crossed the threshold, they were practically roughhousing and bumping into each other and the walls.

Shepard points through the windows of mooring D24 to where a portion of the Normandy was visible through the sturdy glass. They approach the wide windows and lean against the railing, shoulder-to-shoulder.

"That's a beautiful ship, John. It suits you."

"I'd love to show you around, but as you heard, Hackett needs us out there dealing with a distress call."

They took in the shimmer of starlight filtering off the Normandy's hull. Ryder was again the first to speak.

"There's a whole lot about you that I don't know yet, John. Can we try to keep in contact for as long as we are both able?"

Shepard shrugs at him. "I want to try, Scott." There's no way for either of them to know how long they've got together. Launch dates for the Ark can slip, and Shepard's job is often wildly unpredictable both in duration and location in the galaxy. "I don't have anything or anyone like you in my life, and I don't know that I ever will again."

"I won't hold it against you, John, that you have to save this galaxy instead of coming over to ours." He nudges Shepard with his elbow. "I'll take all the messages and video calls we can get, though."

"Sounds like a deal," is all Shepard thinks to say. They exchange contact details, swear again to each other to keep in touch, and then take some time to really look at each other.

To Ryder, Shepard's face is a marvel, and he studies it intensely before blinking back to the portion of the Normandy they can see through the glass. He blinks a few times until he can read the ship's name again.

He turns to Shepard and nods. Shepard takes time to grab and hold everything he can into his memory about the feeling, the shape, the touch and feel of Ryder. His eyes remain dry but his lip twitches a little. 

"John," Ryder says, relieving them both of the stress of the sustained silence. "I think we better let you get back to it."

"We had quite a night, Scott. I hope that it won't be our last one." It doesn't matter that it was almost impossible to have another night like it, it matters that Shepard maybe had something else to look forward to beyond the end of the coming war.

"John." 

Ryder spoke the name in the style of an experienced Commander. Shepard could not help himself half-rise to attention.

"You can do this. I know it. Hell, if you get it done fast enough, I want to see you again before we go." That earned him a chuckle. 

He says the name again, and Shepard warms a little at the spicy rumble that fits around his name in Ryder's voice.

"John," he says, in an ironic and tragic mockery of similar lines from Blasto, "This time with you is the greatest experience anyone could have given me. I know that sounds cliche, but you've become very important to me and that's how I roll."

Shepard wants to laugh but doesn't trust the instinct. Should he crack a joke? Maybe he should say something sentimental? The logical route is useful in a lot of situations, but that probably would alienate Ryder in some way.

Ryder feels through their touching that Shepard has a mighty quartet of conflicting thoughts running around in his head. Ryder nudges himself from the railing and Shepard follows, and he takes Shepard into as big and deep and aching a hug as he can manage. Shepard pulls Ryder closer and tighter. It's not painful, but Ryder is definitely feeling squeezy.

He loves it.

When Shepard finally loosens his grip, he sees some heartache there. He can't make it go away, but he hopes his extra-memorable hug will last him through the worst of things. "It's been the best, Scott."

"Yeah. Be sure to have fun saving the galaxy, John!" Ryder walks away, speaking over his shoulder.

"As you wish," was Shepard's unheard reply.


	5. Afterward

It's some weeks later when Shepard checks his messages and catches the name he always makes time for. He and Ryder are chatting frequently, enjoyed a couple video calls together, and mostly exchanging short messages or emails because that's what you can do most quickly then tied-up with complicated missions and ship operations. They hadn't been able to align their schedules to met face-to-face again. That intense inaugural window of their only face-to-face meeting has sustained as a lasting passion between the men. Every conversation they have is another I love you, presented in a different way.

He opens the message and lets every distracting thought fall away.

"We're on our way, John. This will be the last message I can send before cryo, and you're the one, John. My last thoughts of this galaxy are with you, Commander John Shepard."

Shepard smiles. He's had some dreams of Ryder a few times, often just being with him in a comfortable space and mostly not even risque. Getting those memories helped lessen the worst effects of the bad dreams, whenever they came along. He welcomed the change.

"By now you've probably poked around where you shouldn't have," Ryder's letter continues, "and learned things you shouldn't about what I've been up to. It's unfortunate that things are as they are in the Milky Way, but I can't hold anything against reality."

That hasn't stopped Shepard from shaking his fist at reality on occasion, but Ryder's approach is probably the more sensible one.

"If there was no threat, then I think this thing we're doing would be the kind of adventure you would love. We're men of very different responsibilities despite how our passions are so similar. A Turian friend once told me something about how people can be like different notes in a chord. They'll make new tones, more music together than is possible as separate notes."

Shepard read the section over again. It was either Ryder being tired while prepping for cryo, or Shepard being distracted by the things he's just been dealing with, but it took Shepard a few moments to figure out what that all meant.

"Funny enough, Ryder," Shepard mutters, "I always have trouble finding information using even the SPECTRE channels for getting data about your project." Shepard hadn't truly wanted to uncover the secret. It tantalized, but if his knowledge somehow leads to the failure of their mission, that would all be on him. So he gave a couple of half-hearted attempts and sniffing around.

What Shepard did find, eventually were records about Alec Ryder, his wife, their twins, and several associates who all had unusually skimpy profiles that obscured everything about their recent activities. Shepard read again, from the start, then continued through the rest of the letter. He read the well-wishes, the last stories about his family and his time in the Milky Way, and a few other things. It was plenty to give him a good final snapshot of who Scott Ryder was when he began his impossible mission. 

Shepard read the final line in Ryder's message and considered how those words were the last thing anyone would ever receive from Ryder before his deep sleep.

"I hope I dream of you."


End file.
